tofu

Sometimes, you just want to strip things back to the basics. Unfortunately, life really doesn’t seem to work that way, instead only getting more complicated with time. Growing old makes one long for simpler times, as cliche as this may be.

Lately, I have felt as though I am constantly in ‘fight or flight’ mode, trapped by circumstances beyond my control and to which I can only react. I have been trying to make the best of it and to focus on what I can do, but it is hard not to worry and fret about the things beyond my reach or influence. Hence, back to basics this weekend for me, and focusing my energy on even mundane things that keep me centered. I need to fight my tendency to look at things from too many angles and just pare things down.

College was my first time away from home and also my first time being truly away from the comfort foods of my mother’s and grandmother’s kitchen. There were times when I really did not find anything appealing to eat in the dining halls … and since I felt guilty eating out when I already had a meal plan and didn’t really have the funds to be doing so all the time, I had to figure out other ways to adapt. One of them was by simply steaming tofu with a little soy sauce, scallion, and sesame oil, which were readily available at the very consistent (and boring) salad bar. J claims to have taught his cousin Nancy this ‘dish,’ but I think anyone with Asian roots would have thought to put these ingredients together instead of eating raw, naked tofu on a pile of lettuce. Regardless, it was a tasty, easy, and basic combination that tasted of home, evidently for all of us!

I have since prepared tofu many different ways beyond this basic preparation, and a day like today called for comfort food. Enter: steamed fragrant jasmine rice, stir-fried seasonal sugar snap peas with ginger and garlic, and this robustly-flavored tofu dish: Black Pepper Tofu. A riff on a familiar dish, inspired by none other than Ottolenghi.

I ran across the recipe in BOTH my Ottolenghi cookbook and Food52’s Genius Recipes cookbook, which attests to its flavor and appealing textures. I had to modify it, though, because 11 tablespoons (150gm) of unsalted butter does not belong in my comfort food repertoire…

Black Pepper Tofu (serves 2)

Ingredients:

~3 tbl canola or grapeseed oil, divided use
~9.5-10 oz (270 gm) firm tofu (1/2 block)
cornstarch, for dusting
3 small shallots, thinly sliced
6 garlic cloves, crushed
1.5 tbl finely chopped fresh ginger
4 fresh mildly spicy chiles, thinly sliced
1.5 tbl dark soy sauce
1.5 tbl low sodium light soy sauce
2 tsp black bean soy sauce
1 tbl sugar, or to taste
1.5-2 tbl coarsely crushed black peppercorn (adjust to taste)
6 scallions, cut into 3 cm (1.25 inch) segments
sesame oil, optional
Instructions:

Cut tofu into 1 inch square cubes. Toss tofu with cornstarch to coat, shaking off excess.
Heat 2 tbl oil into a large well-seasoned wok over medium-high heat. Add half of the tofu cubes to the oil in a single layer. Pan-fry, turning them around as you go, until they are golden all over and have a thin crust. Transfer finished tofu onto paper towels and repeat with second batch. (You may need to use additional oil for the second batch.)
Drain remaining oil and wipe out the wok. Add 1 tbl oil to the wok over medium heat. Add shallots, chiles, garlic, and ginger. Stir-fry, stirring occasionally until the aromatics become softened and fragrant. Add soy sauces and sugar and stir, and then add the crushed black pepper. Adjust seasoning to taste.
Add the tofu to warm it up in the sauce for about 1 min. Stir in the green onions, and drizzle with a few drops of sesame oil, if using. Serve hot with steamed rice.

When I lived in New York, I lived only a few blocks away from the green market. As a transplant from California and homesick for the amazing produce, I reveled in the bounty of summer and fall, when the market was laden with seasonal fruits and vegetables. By winter, the market’s colors waned as the leaves in Central Park also disappeared. But as soon as the first glimmers of spring came, I saw stirrings of the glorious greens to come.

It was at the green market that I first discovered ramps. RAMPS! I’m not sure exactly how my obsession began, but from the first time I brought these somewhat pricey alliums home, I could not get enough of them. I made ramps with soft scrambled eggs, ramp pizza, ramp risotto, and ramp pesto. Perhaps my obsession stemmed from knowing that their arrival meant the coming of warmth back to the City and the Park, which would regain the beautiful lush green that I enjoyed on my runs.

Back in California, I brought home a bunch of chinese chives* the other day to make dumplings. With a large portion of the bunch remaining, I decided to pay homage to the versatility of this other member of the allium family. They are wonderful paired simply with softly scrambled eggs, but I chose to make a simple soup with chives and tofu, and stir-fried them to accompany pan-seared tofu. Chinese chives and tofu two ways. Not quite ramps, but still delicious and evocative of meals from my mother’s kitchen.

Stir-Fried Chinese Chives with Glazed Tofu

Ingredients

2/3 block of organic tofu (10-12 oz), sliced

4 tsp canola or safflower oil, divided use

3/4 lb chinese chives, cut into 3 inch segments (about 3-4 cups)

1 tsp red chili flakes (or to taste)

1/4 tsp salt, or to taste

1.5 tsp ginger, minced

1/2 tsp sesame oil

1 tbl oyster sauce

Instructions:

Heat a well-seasoned wok over high heat
Add 2 tsp canola oil, swirling to coat wok evenly, and heat until hot.
Add chives and red pepper flakes and stir-fry, letting chives rest on bottom and sides of wok several seconds between stirs, until chives are tender and slightly browned, 2 to 4 minutes.
Season with salt to taste. Set aside and keep warm.
Wipe out wok and heat over medium-high heat.
Add remaining 2 tsp canola oil and pan sear tofu slices on both sides until golden, about 3-5 minutes each side. Set aside.
Add 1/2 tsp sesame oil and swirl to coat bottom of the pan. Add minced ginger and stir until fragrant, about 1 minute. Add in oyster sauce, turn off heat, and return tofu slices to the pan, turning gently to glaze.
Top stir-fried chives with the pan-glazed tofu and serve immediately.

* Apparently, raw chinese chives have quite the pungent odor, unlike their cousins the ramps. It was their ‘fragrance’ that led J’s friend Bao, who is no stranger to the likes of fish sauce, kimchi, durian, and other pungent Asian foods and condiments, to comment on how my kitchen smelled like a ‘proper Asian home.’ If that is synonymous with “Asian supermarket,” I’m not sure that’s a good thing.